The Holy Word
by Pyeknu
Summary: Written by my late mother, Eleanor Kushnir. Only two chapters. Timeline wise, is set after The Doomsday Machine. If anyone is interested in continuing this story, they are welcome to.
1. Part 1

"The Holy Word"  
  
by Eleanor B. Kushnir  
  
**** **** ****  
  
Posted by Fred Herriot  
  
fherriot@yahoo.com  
  
**** **** ****  
  
Based on "Star Trek," created by Gene Roddenberry  
  
**** **** ****  
  
NOTE: This story was started by my mother several years ago. She wrote two chapters to it before writer's block set in. Sadly, my mother passed away in August 2001 before getting a chance to return to this story. Those interested in continuing this story are welcome to do so. All proper credits are to be acknowledged, though.  
  
TIMELINE NOTE: This story is set after the TV episode "The Doomsday Machine" and before "A Private Little War."  
  
**** **** ****  
  
In the beginning, there was nothing. And the Great Creative One saw that all was emptiness and blackness. S/He saw that this was not good.  
  
So S/He clapped Her/is hands and all manner of stars and planets sprang from Her/is hands. S/He saw that this was good. The beginning and the ending of the first day.  
  
S/He looked upon the planets and on some S/He separated the land from the water. Some S/He allowed to be filled with gases. Some S/He allowed to rest as they cooled down from Her/is great clapping. S/He saw that this was good. The beginning and the ending of the second day.  
  
On all planets, S/He separated darkness from the light. S/He gave the sun in the day and the moon and other stars at night. S/He saw that this was good. The beginning and the ending of the third day.  
  
On many planets, S/He filled the land with animals, the air with birds and the seas with fish. S/He saw that this was good. The beginning and the ending of the fifth day.  
  
On one particular planet, S/He formed a people who loved Her/im and worshipped in all that they did. S/He saw that this was good. The beginning and the ending of the sixth day.  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
Captain's Log: Stardate 4207.1  
  
We've just chased one of the most violent ion storms it has been my experience to study. My and I crew is exhausted. Even Spock seems to walk with a slight droop to his shoulders, the only visible clue that he's as worn and tired as the rest of us. What we need is to find a place for some R and R.  
  
But where in this quadrant is there such a place?  
  
* * *  
  
Jim Kirk slouched in the captain's chair, counting the minutes until he would be officially off duty. His relief had not reported yet. It didn't matter. As soon as the clock read 1600 hours, Jim intended to leave command to Spock and head to his quarters for some badly needed rest.  
  
"Captain," cried out Uhura. "Incoming message from Starfleet. Marked 'For Your Eyes Only' and 'Urgent.'"  
  
With a groan, Jim stood, stretched himself erect and turned to his science officer. "You have the com, Mr. Spock." He strode away, not looking to check that the best science officer in the Fleet had taken the seat he had just vacated. "I'll take it in my quarters," he informed Uhura, then stretched again after hearing the turbolift doors hiss closed.  
  
A minute later, he tapped in his security codes and waited for the call to be piped in. Kirk inwardly groaned on recognizing the officer. Commodore Kowolsky, the greatest desk jockey in the Fleet. Rumour had it that he was one of the few men who actually slept his way to his present position. In the old days, women were accused of such behaviour out of jealousy that they had invaded the male dominated inner sanctum of Starfleet Command...but after a few brilliant leaders arrived and left their mark, that ugly rumour was laid to rest. It was now used as a sign of disrespect for any flag officer who had not run the gauntlet of space travel. Jim groaned yet again. The wrong orders from this yo-yo could easily kill his crew and destroy his ship. "Yes, Commodore?" he said instead.  
  
"We've been reading your reports on this ion storm, Jim," the senior officer began. "Everyone here is very impressed."  
  
'They should be,' Jim thought to himself. 'There hasn't been the likes of that type of storm in recorded space-faring history.' Instead, he smiled, "Thank you, Commodore Kowolsky. I'll be sure to relay your comments to my crew."  
  
"Well, be that as it may..." continued Kowolsky, as if Jim had not spoken. How the man loved the sound of his voice. "...we've received a curious message from a planet in that quadrant, asking specifically for you and your services."  
  
"A planet? In this quadrant? With interspace communication ability?" Jim punched in some keys to call up a diagram of the space about the 'Enterprise.' Sure enough, a tiny planet, some light years away, but close in space terms, wobbled about a small star at the very corner of the quadrant. "Who is it and why do they want me?"  
  
"It seems that you have done their people some great good and they want to meet with you."  
  
"What good?" Jim felt irritation cover his exhaustion. He didn't like that combination. It made his thinking dull and irrational. For a starship captain, that was dangerous.  
  
"They didn't say, Jim. But I told them that you'd be there as soon as they sent you their coordinates. However, in the interest of interstellar peace and good will, I've accepted their invitation for you. Good Luck! Starfleet out."  
  
"Wait...!" yelled Jim. But the blank screen told him that any further yelling would do no good. He hit a button on his console and roared, "Spock!!"  
  
"Yes, Captain," came the prompt cool reply.  
  
"Could I see you in my quarters?" Jim asked through clenched teeth. He collapsed onto his chair and pulled his hands over his face. He was tired. His crew was tired. And now Starfleet wanted him to visit some people of whom he had no knowledge?! On top of all that, he didn't care.  
  
The doorway soon swished open to reveal Spock. Jim signalled his science officer to enter and sit down. Spock moved silently across the room and sat before the captain's desk. Silence.  
  
Slowly, Jim cleared the cobwebs from his brain, "That was Starfleet." Spock made no comment. He knew his captain would get to it eventually. "It seems there is this planet in this quadrant and they have invited me to visit because I have done them some great good. I have no idea as to who these people are..."  
  
"Donelledons."  
  
"Excuse me?" Jim eyed his science officer. Of course, he would know. "And they are...?"  
  
"There is insufficient information concerning them. For a considerable period of time, it was believed that this world and its people were just a rumour. A small planet far away from the beaten path, so to speak. But enough traders and merchants have visited Donelleda to give credence to that planet's existence."  
  
"I don't know any Donelledons," Jim protested.  
  
"You may have encountered them off world, Jim."  
  
"But what do you know?" Jim raised himself wearily and walked to his private cabinet and drew a bottle of brandy. He was officially off-duty and could indulge.  
  
"According to all reports, they are humanoid," answered Spock. "An attractive people by Terran standards, very slight in build, not tall. The most often used term merchants who visited them employed was...'charming.'"  
  
"Charming," echoed Jim.  
  
The intercom whistle. "Captain Kirk. Incoming message from the Donelledons," Uhura hailed. "Shall I relay it into your quarters?"  
  
"Certainly," responded the captain.  
  
The console beeped. On the screen appeared a gentle looking male, his head covered with wispy reddish hair. A smile across pleasant features provoked a responding smile from the captain.  
  
"Captain Kirk?" the man inquired.  
  
"James T. Kirk of the Starship 'Enterprise' at your service, sir," Jim surprised himself at the courtliness of his tone.  
  
"Wonderful! Wonderful! I am named Hornice, the First Speaker for the day."  
  
"What can I do for you, Mr. Hornice?" asked Jim.  
  
"Please, it is just Hornice," he chuckled. "We have no titles as you have them in Starfleet."  
  
"Again," Jim repeated. Only Spock heard his captain's teeth grind. "What may I do for you?"  
  
"We are most anxious to meet with you, Captain Kirk," the gentleman pleasantly continued. "I have given your chief engineer the coordinates of our homeworld and you should be here, at Warp Three-point-two...in 2.17 days."  
  
Jim looked at Spock, whose only response was an elevated eyebrow. "Hornice," Jim began. This time he made no attempt to hide his frustration...  
  
The screen went suddenly blank, followed by a colourful expletive from Jim. "The cheek of the man," he yelled.  
  
"Apparently, he is accustomed to being obeyed," surmised Spock.  
  
"Well, he can go to hell...!!" Jim roared. "Engineering!" he hit the console.  
  
"Scott here."  
  
"Belay those orders. I'm not going anywhere near..."  
  
"But Captain," Scotty protested. "The ship's engines ha' been locked in tae Hornice's coordinates and we're going there whether we like it or not."  
  
"What?!" Jim exclaimed, then leapt to his feet and dashed out of his quarters. Spock followed closely behind.  
  
Minutes later, Jim burst into Engineering to find Scotty standing quietly beside his console. "Unlock us, Scotty."  
  
"I cannae do that, Captain," burred his chief engineer. "I've tried every trick I know o' tae undo what Hornice set up...but nothing I know nae works."  
  
"That's impossible, Scotty," Jim protested. "You're the best engineer in the Fleet."  
  
"I concur," Spock interjected. "However, the Donelledons, isolated the way they are in this quadrant, could easily have developed engineering principles which we do not know of."  
  
"So, you're telling me..." began Jim.  
  
"Yes, Captain," nodded Spock.  
  
"Aye, Captain," echoed Scotty. "We're going along whether we like it or not...so we might as well enjoy it."  
  
Without another word, Jim Kirk wheeled about on his heels and exited Engineering. Scotty gave his famous Gaelic shrug and Spock raised an eyebrow...  
  
* * *  
  
Captain's Log: Stardate 4207.2  
  
For two days, Enterprise has been locked on the coordinates set into the ship's computers by Hornice of Donelleda. At first, I was enraged at this effrontery. But, for some reason, I have since calmed. I don't feel as tired as I did when the message from Starfleet came. Even the crew seems to have got the chance to rest. It's almost as if with Hornice taking control of the ship, everyone from myself down can relax. Someone else is in charge...even though we don't know anything about this stranger.  
  
* * *  
  
Jim entered his quarters. He was wondering what, if any, equipment he should take with him when he went to Donelleda. He had asked the ship's physician to stand by to accompany him. Leonard McCoy eagerly agreed and, in mock humour, began stacking all manner of suitcases and boxes in the transporter room. Bones loved to complain about his fear of having his atoms spread through the galaxy, but nevertheless, stood ready when called upon.  
  
"Captain," Jim heard his chief engineer call to him.  
  
"Yes, Scotty," he answered.  
  
"Could ye be stoppin' at Engineering before you beam down?"  
  
"Sure, Scotty. Problem?"  
  
"I dinnae want to say exactly that. It's just a puzzlement and I need tae talk with ye about it."  
  
Without another word, Jim hastened to Engineering. He knew Scotty loved the ship...and if there was a 'puzzlement,' the man was beside himself looking for some solution. The doors hissed open. Scotty stood at his control panel, slouched over. He also had a glass of what looked like scotch whiskey in his hand. Jim covered his shock with a stone face.  
  
"What is it?" he asked coldly. "Some sort of malfunction?"  
  
"Nae," Scotty drawled out. "Nae problem at all."  
  
"Then explain yourself, Mister...and tell me why my chief engineer is drinking on the job."  
  
"Aye, yuir correct, Captain, when ye point out I'm drinking. But I'm nae drinking 'on the job.' In fact, I haven't been 'on the job' since that Hornice kidnapped my ship and is making the lass run smoother than I've e'er been able to in all my years here."  
  
Silence.  
  
"You're unhappy...because the ship is running smoothly?" asked Jim.  
  
"I'm unhappy that a stranger...who has ne'er been aboard...is making the lass run like she ne'er has for me." The man waved his glass, then collapsed heavily on a nearby chair. "I'm unhappy because I dinnae know what changes Hornice made...and I'm unhappy because when he returns the old girl tae me, will she run as she did before he took over...or will she continue tae run better?"  
  
There was absolutely nothing Jim could say. He stood silently for a few minutes, watching his chief engineer sip from his glass, then decided, that if he couldn't do anything, he might as well not do anything elsewhere.  
  
The doors to Engineering hissed shut behind him when Nurse Chapel approached, holding a potted plant in her hands. "Captain!" she cried delightedly.  
  
"Nurse Chapel," he responded.  
  
"Look at this!" she cheerily commanded.  
  
"What is it that I am supposed to be looking at?" he asked.  
  
"This!" she held the plant closer to him.  
  
"This?"  
  
"Yes!" she chortled. "A couple of days ago, I was all set to throw this arboretum nouveau plantis into the refuse. I've tried every trick I know to get this thing to grow and bloom. And in two short days, it's turned into this lovely perfumed filled specimen." And without another word, she swept away, talking to the potted plant as if it were alive. Then she stopped in her tracks and called, "Captain, you must visit the arboretum before you beam down to Donelleda. You won't believe your eyes when you get there."  
  
Jim stood still for a moment. Well, the arboretum was as good a place to "not do anything" until his supposed beam down time. He hastened to the arboretum, the space which was every crewman's favourite place to visit when homesickness became especially difficult. Somewhere in the hodgepodge of flowering plants and shrubbery, one could find some bit of the homeworld. There he or she would sit and eventually, the feeling would dissipate and the crewman could return to his or her assigned duties.  
  
Jim stopped in his tracks, startled at the sight before him. The air was thick with a combination of perfumes exuded from plants that had miraculously grown to great heights and spans. Every time he had visited the arboretum, he was pleased at the gentle control kept over the plants, not taking up too much space or overwhelming the visitor with their scent. He hunted for the head biologist and found him at the farthest corner of the chamber. The man was sitting quietly beside a huge cactus. It had always been a runty little specimen, resisting efforts by the botany crew to reach its homeworld's dimensions. "Mr. Freel," Jim called. The young man leaped to his feet. "At ease, Mister," ordered the captain. The man visibly relaxed. "Can you explain this?"  
  
The young crewman flushed. "N-no, sir, I can't," he stammered. "The only thing that has changed within the last two days is Hornice's taking control of the ship. And..."  
  
"And?" Jim urged, knowing what was going to be said, but needing to hear it anyway.  
  
"And every plant in this arboretum that was sickly or dying or just sitting dormant changed. I have plants flowering right now that haven't had a blossom since I was assigned to the 'Enterprise' two years ago. Fruit has appeared on bushes and trees where we couldn't even get a blossom."  
  
"So you've attributed this change to Hornice?" Jim repeated.  
  
"It has to be, Captain," Mr. Freel insisted. "That's the only variable that we know of."  
  
With nothing more to say, Jim urged the young man to keep up the good work and left the green chamber. He was thinking to himself that Hornice had a lot of explaining to do.  
  
"Jim!"  
  
He turned to see the chief medical officer approaching. "I am really getting excited about meeting this Hornice character," Leonard McCoy gleefully chortled.  
  
"Because?" Jim prompted.  
  
"You won't believe Sick Bay," Bones turned to walk beside the captain, who decided to head for the bridge.  
  
"Because?" Jim continued. He never really had to prompt his friend for too long. Bones was never hesitant about voicing his opinion and observations.  
  
"I don't have anyone in Sick Bay, that's why," Bones snapped. "From the moment the ship was under Hornice's control, things began happening in Sick Bay that makes me want to meet this man, up close and personal."  
  
"No one in Sick Bay?" echoed Jim.  
  
"Yep. For all the work Nurse Chapel and I have had to do, we might as well close shop. I had an appendectomy to do and that little organ just righted itself all by itself. There were a couple of breaks and they healed without any action on my part. You know the acne scars on Cadet O'Toole's face?" Jim was about to respond but the doctor ploughed on. "Not a scar, not a blemish, nothing but clean, healthy pink skin on her. She danced out of there and went right out and asked Ensign McLean for a date. So, although I am not at all crazy about beaming down to Donelleda, I really, really want to meet this fellow."  
  
At that moment, they reached the bridge. Upon hearing the doors open, Spock rose from the captain's chair and moved to his science controls. "We have reached the coordinates as directed by Hornice, Captain," Spock announced.  
  
Jim slid into his chair. "On screen. Let's see what this little planet looks like."   
  
All eyes turned to the viewscreen. A slight gasp is heard as the crew saw what lay out before them. Stars, twinkling in the distance, differing shades of black filled in the huge distances between them. They scanned the screen looking for the planet to which their ship had been sailing for over the last two days.  
  
There was nothing there.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Part 2

"The Holy Word"  
  
by Eleanor B. Kushnir  
  
**** **** ****  
  
Posted by Fred Herriot  
  
fherriot@yahoo.com  
  
**** **** ****  
  
Based on "Star Trek," created by Gene Roddenberry  
  
**** **** ****  
  
People lived in harmony with their planet, with the Great Creator. They worked and studied to discover, to gestate the important rules they desired so they could live well within their own families, towns and countries, with the planet and with the Great Creator.  
  
And S/He saw that this was good.  
  
It came to pass that after many years, the people began to drift from the lessons. Restlessness set in. They began to see the rules their forbearers created in the Great Creator's name as harsh restrictions to their freedom. They began to feel isolated and yearned to learn of people who lived off planet.  
  
They raised their voices to the Great Creator and beseeched Her/im to bring unto them other people who would broaden their lives and show them that they were not alone.  
  
For many generations, the Great Creator did not answer their prayers. What good would bringing strangers to this lovely planet do for the people who had lived in peace and harmony for, lo, these many years? They lived fruitful, productive lives. Their children were healthy and strong. Their songs and stories were rich and powerful, describing the work done by the people as they sought to make life good for themselves.  
  
But the weeping and the wailing and the prayers did not stop. There grew a great listlessness among the people as they began to doubt the Great Creator's wisdom.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
One day, a ship carrying many people from another planet fell to the ground. They had fled their own home world because of countless sins and other evils done there. They were seeking to rebuild a new life elsewhere and sought it in the stars that hung outside their own world.   
  
Seeing that here was an opportunity to teach the people of the planet a lesson for their folly, the Great Creator saw that none in the ship died, but survived the crash.   
  
The visitors stepped out of the ship, saw the native people, then drew back in fear. Surely, these people were enemies. Surely, these people would not welcome them, but would attack them at first opportunity. The men of the ship grabbed weapons and fired on the natives. Some perished.  
  
The Great Creator wept when S/He saw Her/is people mortally wounded. S/He was prepared to smite the visitors with Her/is hand when a visiting female elder ran out in the field between the ship and the natives, begging everyone to do no more harm.  
  
She cried to her brothers and sisters, asked them to remember what their own world was like. "Do you want to bring the poison of death and racial hatred to these, who knew nothing of this?!"  
  
Everyone remained still for a long time. Then a young man dropped his weapon and walked into the field to stand beside the old woman. She turned to the natives and invited them to approach.  
  
Everyone stood still for a long time. Then a young native woman came forward, hand extended to the visiting young man. They soon stood side by side. Slowly and hesitatingly, the two parties crossed, converging around those who took that bold first step. There was much weeping as they tended to the dead.  
  
The young man and the young woman eventually joined together in a family partnership and bore many children. From this couple a new race was born. They grew and flourished in the new world.  
  
And the Great Creator saw...this was good.  
  
* * *  
  
Science Officer's Log. Stardate 4207.3.  
  
As soon as we fully understood that Donnelleda was not at the coordinates given to us by Hornice, a transporter beamed the captain away. Shields could not in time be raised to prevent his abduction. As command of the ship was transferred, Hornice appeared on the viewscreen to announce the captain was safely on the planet and that he would be returned to us in one week's time. His suggestion that we take time to complete unfinished business and grant the crew needed rest met with vocal scepticism. However, at present, I see no other recourse but to follow Hornice's advice as we have no idea where to commence looking for the captain.  
  
* * *  
  
Jim had materialized on a planet so many times that he had lost track. This was the first time during which he was aware of his surroundings as he was beamed from the ship. He could feel the tingle that always preceded dematerialization. He saw the bridge crew turn to stare at him as his body seemed to drop through the deck plates. Passing through each of the primary hull's eleven other decks, then into the darkness of space. He didn't feel the vacuum, the deadly cold, for which he was grateful. Then, he saw the planet, slightly smaller than Mars, covered with equal amounts of green land and crystal blue seas. He felt himself dropping to the ground, followed by another tingle which told him that he was materializing in a beautiful place...what seemed to be a garden.  
  
He remained still for a few moments, ascertaining his surroundings. The lush plant life resembled what he had just seen in the ship's arboretum. He observed there were no tall trees and wondered why such plants were missing; flowers, grassland and bushes abounded. As he turned about to take in everything, he was certain he saw a tree appear in the distance...one that resembled the tree under which he had spent many of his younger days. No, he shook his head, denying what his eyes had witnessed, it couldn't be. Yet, hadn't his ship just been hauled across the quadrant to this spot? Until he met Hornice or any other Donelledons, he had to reserve judgement.  
  
Footsteps. As they grew louder, Jim tensed. He could soon meet the man, the power which took over his ship. Turning, he noticed a diminutive figure walk around a particularly lush bush. A favoured aunt's saying then came to him: "If he was an inch, he was five feet tall!"  
  
Hornice smiled. "I am actually five feet two, in your ancient mode of measurement, Captain."  
  
Jim's tension increased, struggling to hide his thoughts from the person before him. Hornice frowned. "I am sorry, Captain Kirk. We on Donelleda typically ask first if we can read another's thoughts. I beg your pardon. I guess I was just showing off."  
  
"After what you just did to my ship and those aboard, after you brought me down here in that manner, I wouldn't think anyone with that kind of power would need to 'show off.'"  
  
Hornice tensed on sensing the captain's more than justifiable anger. "A failing within some of my people," he apologized. "I will see that no one interferes with your thoughts as long as you are our guest."  
  
"What have you done with my ship?"  
  
"Why...nothing, Captain Kirk," Hornice responded, taken aback. "I have informed them you have safely arrived and that they need only to wait, catch up on rest and you will return in one week. Your Mr. Spock, a remarkable man, seemed to accept my message quite well. Your doctor and your chief engineer...were not so welcoming hearing the news."  
  
A smile crept across Jim's face. Yes, Scotty and Bones would waste a lot of energy hounding Spock to do SOMETHING about this effrontery to their captain and themselves. The Vulcan would probably get very little rest in the coming week.  
  
"Captain," called Hornice, interrupting Jim's thoughts. "When I am not First Speaker, I am a chef and very proud of it. I have prepared a slight repast for the two of us, so that we can sit and get to know each other."  
  
"Is that when you'll tell me why I am here?" Jim asked.  
  
"Not until you understand my people and our homeworld better," he responds, an aura of mystery haunting every word.  
  
Jim didn't care for the evasiveness, but he didn't feel as if his life was in danger. Reluctantly, he followed the First Speaker out of the garden into a structure similar to a gazebo on Earth.  
  
Hornice signalled for Jim to sit at a circular table, covered with a white material. Tall glasses of some sort of liquid stood waiting beside plates laden with an assortment of what looked like meats and vegetables. The aroma that wafted to Jim's nostrils reminded the captain that he had not eaten since early morning. He waited for Hornice to seat himself.   
  
The tiny man lifted a square of material and covered his lap with it. He smiled encouragingly at Jim, picked up a pronged utensil and began to eat heartily. Jim followed suit but at a much slower pace, until the food tickled his taste buds, his suspicion that the food was dangerous vanishing. For the next few minutes, there was no talk as the men focused on their meal. When at last, the final morsel had disappeared, Jim's host leaned back with a comfortable sigh. "That was really, really good."  
  
Jim smiled. "My sentiments, exactly. You prepared this?"  
  
"Oh, yes," Hornice nodded. "I love to cook, yet I have so few people to experiment on. I have no partner or offspring, so I need to coerce anyone I can to sample my wares."  
  
"If you ever decide to leave Donelleda and open a restaurant," Jim smiled, "...I know of a dozen planets that would kill to have you launch it there." Noting Hornice's frown, Jim realized that as excellent as his host's English was, he may not be fluent in hyperbole. "Forgive me, Hornice, I didn't mean that they would actually kill anyone..." he quickly explained.  
  
"No, I didn't think so," the man's frown slowly faded, "...because killing me would sort of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" And with that he leaned back and laughed heartily.  
  
Jim couldn't help himself. He laughed too.  
  
* * *  
  
"Spock! You just can't leave the man down there!"  
  
"Down where, Doctor?" inquired Spock solemnly. "We have no idea where Donelleda is."  
  
"Well...it has to be somewhere close," Bones stammered. "You can't transport people far without losing their atoms in space."  
  
"Let me remind you, Doctor, " Spock said firmly. "Hornice took control of this ship, guiding it to the exact coordinates he gave Commander Scott. If he and his people have that sort of power, then he can transport the Captain any place he chooses."  
  
Bones flustered, then sighed. "I just don't like us standing around, twiddling our thumbs, when Jim could be in danger."  
  
"Your automatic assumption that all sentient beings who meet humans mean harm is rooted in your mythology, Doctor," Spock spoke patiently. "If you remember the history of my people coming to Earth, that superstition would be alleviated."  
  
Bones' face flamed in rage, stemming from the fact that Spock was correct...and from his worry over his friend. "I can see I'm getting nowhere with you," he huffed, spinning about. A lesser man would have sighed with relief at the hiss behind his back signalling his departure from the bridge.  
  
Spock did not.  
  
* * *  
  
"So," Jim ventured finally. "What exactly is the source of your power, Hornice? We haven't met too many people that can haul a starship across the distance you brought us, healing the flora and the fauna, maximizing the performance of the engines...to the extent that my Chief Engineer is taking to drinking on the job!"  
  
"Is he?" Hornice looked surprised. "Oh, my, that certainly wasn't my intention. There wasn't a lot for me to do. All that was needed was a slight adjustment in the matter-antimatter ratio which your engineer would have eventually discovered. All I did was eliminate some of the hindrances."  
  
"Perhaps you could have taken the time to explain that to him," Jim hummed. "Like most specialists, he is very sensitive to any adjustments that are made on his ship. He sees it as some sort of negative criticism against him."  
  
"With his being the best engineer in Starfleet, Mr. Scott must not have that happen to him too often."  
  
"Exactly why this was such a blow to him."   
  
Hornice frowned momentarily. "That will be repaired before you leave us, Captain."   
  
"Thank you." Jim leaned back as his host gestured with a tall bottle, asking if Jim wanted a drink. Jim nodded. The Donelledons had no intention of poisoning him...at least, not yet. "Now you have avoided answering my question."  
  
"Which was?" Hornice smiled.  
  
"What is the source of your power?"  
  
"I don't know if you are prepared to hear the answer."  
  
"Hornice," Jim sighed heavily. "I have been on many planets and have met many beings who have powers the likes of which we do not have on Earth. Why would I not believe you? You have already proven to me and my crew that you can do many things we aren't evolved enough to do."  
  
Hornice smiled at his guest. "Very good answer, Captain Kirk. All right, let's walk through the garden while I talk. After the type of meal we just had, I feel that a walk is just the ticket."  
  
The two men stood. Jim looked down at his diminutive host. Although only five feet two inches tall, there exuded from the man an aura that bespoke of a strength Jim had not seen too many times. This man knew something Jim didn't. His knowledge, his confidence in that knowledge belied the fragility he seemed to have.  
  
"It is interesting that you used the word 'evolved,'" he started. "My people are constantly striving to evolve to the level that enables us to move starships across space, heal the sick, move objects with just a thought and so on. The source of our power is our belief in the Great Creator and the planet on which we stand."  
  
Jim couldn't help but look down at the grass beneath his feet. "Your source of power is the planet?" he echoed.  
  
"Yes," Hornice answered simply. "The planet is a sentient being and She, along with the Great Creator, allows us to live the life we have chosen."  
  
"How would you go about knowing something like that?" Jim asked, his eyes still on the grass and the shrubbery around him.   
  
"We didn't," responded Hornice. "For many, many years, we simply assumed like other beings on other planets, that the ground on which we trod, built our homes, raised our livestock was there for our convenience."  
  
"What changed that perception?" asked Jim.  
  
"It was the old ones who first noticed it," smiled his host. "They had time in their waning years to see what we, who were young and raising families and tending to our businesses, couldn't see."  
  
"And they saw...?"  
  
"That whenever some natural need arose for the people, somehow it was met. When the grass turned brown from our sun, some rain would fall, just enough to get the green to return and only in that area. No more. When a farmer needed an especially good crop for the market, suddenly his grain would flourish as it had not in the previous weeks."  
  
"That's it?"  
  
"Not at first," Hornice bent down to break a small flower off a stem and held it to his nose. "We laughed when the old ones told us that the planet listened to us and gave us what we needed. At the same time, the leaders of our religious institutions weren't too crazy about that notion; to them, all things came from the Great Creator." Jim watched in fascination as another flower sprang forward to replace the one that Hornice plucked. "Some of the more vocal old ones were executed for their heresy."  
  
Jim reached out and touched Hornice's shoulder. "Much of that happened on my world. Religious intolerance seems to be a natural by-product of rigid spiritual law and dictates."  
  
"Hmm...yes," Hornice smiled. "I have read that in your history books. But, we weren't convinced until after the first off-world visitors arrived. They had run away from their home world to escape pollution and the destruction of their environment. However, even though they didn't like what was done on their home planet, they didn't know any other way and began to create the same horrors on our world. They built one city in the mountains because they discovered some mineral that, to them, was very valuable. They made no effort to maintain the pristine quality of the fields, streams and valleys, making a horrible mess. They slashed great swaths into the mountains, leaving the interior of the earth exposed to the rains and winds. They were so excited when they hauled out the mineral. Their experts declared that there was an enormous amount and they would all be rich beyond their wildest dreams. Then the planet decided that she had enough."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"An earthquake."  
  
"An earthquake?"  
  
"So powerful that everything that was on site was destroyed. The tunnels collapsed, the dams burst, the mountains seemed to melt over the buildings and..."  
  
"Earthquakes are a natural phenomena," Jim interceded.  
  
"Ours is a very stable planet, Captain. We have records that date back hundreds of years and we have earthquakes once every five hundred years of so," Hornice insisted. "At the time of this quake, we were in the middle of a cycle, so it was not a natural occurrence. You will notice that our mountains are not as tall as the ones on your planet. The tectonic activity is slight, so there are no massive disruptions to the surface of the earth. The old ones concluded that the planet doesn't care for such out-of-control stresses and chose to just nudge things along."  
  
"What happened to the mine?" Jim wanted to get back to Hornice's story.  
  
"The off-worlders cleaned up and began all over again," Hornice responded. "The home-worlders watched in amazement as they cleaned away the destruction and began redigging. And it happened again."  
  
"Another earthquake."  
  
"Yes," Hornice nodded. "This time accompanied with a flood, and enough rain to wash everything completely away. All signs of the mineral disappeared. That's when our people decided that our planet was alive and would tolerate no destruction or polluting to her surface, air and water. Eventually, the idea was accepted as fact and, accept for a few skirmishes, we have lived a relatively peaceful life here on Donelleda."  
  
"Then why am I here?" asked Jim.  
  
"Well, you are involved, inadvertently, with one of the major problems that are with us today and we need your help.  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"Well, we don't know what to do with your children."  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued...? 


End file.
